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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650269">a light in tired eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy'>dingletragedy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ballum week ‘20 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EastEnders (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family, M/M, Nightmares, ballum week 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:02:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ben has to look away then, face screwed up as he fights tears, a misty heat settling in his eyes, behind his ears, neck strained as he tries not to breathe too loudly, to interrupt the quiet. He aches to say something, to soothe a hand down Callum’s back, or to bring gentle fingers through Lexi’s hair. But more than anything, he wants to let them have it to themselves, this goldspun moment.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“So are you, ain’t ya?” Lexi questions innocently, eyes wide and hopeful.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“So am I what?” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"A Mitchell."</i>
</p><p>or, callum has his fourth nightmare of the week, and this time, lexi is the one on hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ballum week ‘20 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>136</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a light in tired eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for day three of ballum week - family</p><p>i would've liked to have spent longer on this, adding to it and just making it better lmao, but my eyes are more tired than callum's at this point!!!</p><p>i hope you enjoy and thank you all so SO much for the comments on my ballum week fics so far, i've been blown away!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Early morning encases the house in a dark shell, lit from within by the lamp at the bed, just a feeble, fuzzy yellow that splays deep gold shadows up the walls, sends the silhouettes of their bodies spindly and interwind. The wind curves over the market tops, and through a creak in the door. Walford whistles low, eerie footsteps up the stairs, into their bedroom, and tickles at Ben’s bare ankles where they knock against Callum’s. </p><p>Beside him, Callum is cast in glowing blue light, the shadows of his lashes like delicate ferns across his cheekbones. His arms are crossed, chest rising and falling is steady breaths, brows set and eyes tight. </p><p>He’d been subdued all day, greeting Ben at the breakfast table with the taste of bitter coffee lingering on his tongue, and soft bags buried under his eyes, claiming a fitful sleep. By lunch, he’d attempted to convince Ben that he was absolutely fine, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and when they took a trip the Queen Vic in the evening, he sat silently in the corner and picked at a loose thread on his shirt.</p><p>Callum doesn’t sleep these days, not really. He can fall into fits and starts of rest when his body shuts down, but Ben reckons its because he won’t let himself go deep enough to uncover all those forgotten places, lost faces. </p><p>No matter how tired his body would become, the moment Callum shut his eyes it was like he had a shining target pinned to his chest. <em> Afraid to fall asleep. Afraid to stay awake. </em></p><p>The night is a quiet rustle, so silent that the distant tinnitus in Ben’s ears feels amplified, sounds like the approach of low flying planes, the high-pitched fuzz before the deep, threatening rumble. It’s this quietness that allows the sudden shaking in Callum ’s breath to become audible, the scrunching of fabric under his shifting, and when Ben turns his head, he can just about make out Callum’s arms drawing inwards, his legs curling into his stomach, murmuring softly. </p><p>When he starts to cry, the hair on Ben’s arms stand up.</p><p>Then, Callum wakes with a choked sob, a hiccup of breath as he jolts and rolls onto his front, gasping. One hand comes to his chest, curled into a fist, his other hand covering his face as he breathes, or at least, tries too. Ben feels, rather than hears, a torn, whispered <em>no </em>, fall from Callum’s lips, his legs sliding from underneath the safety of their duvet, and he pulls his knees to his chest, forehead pressed against them.</p><p>Ben watches, heartbroken.</p><p>“Hey,” Ben says, face flickering with alarm as he shakes Callum gently. Callum can’t seem to get his eyes to focus. “Callum. Look at me, yeah?”</p><p>When he gets no response, Callum still lost to the devils of his nightmares, Ben cups his cheek gently, just like he’s done so already three times this week. He’s panicked, gone white as a sheet, and his skin is slippery under Ben’s fingertips, eyes swollen from his pinched crying. Automatically, Callum’s own fingers latch desperately onto his wrists, trying to pull him closer. <em> “Cal.” </em></p><p>“I can’t stop. Can’t stop dreaming, Ben,” Callum’s voice is a broken, dull thing, glass shattered into atom-sized pieces, thin and regretful and full of a weight that feels heavy enough to drag them through the crack in the floorboards and carry them out into the darkness of the night. <em> “I hate this.” </em> <em><br/></em><br/>He’s trembling, chest shaking violently, trembling fingers grasping at every inch of skin he can reach. Nothing leaves his mouth but another choked cry. Ben feels it is his own chest. </p><p>“I know you do, I know,” Ben tries, voice breaking around the words. He feels his heart cracking, splintering and falling. He wishes, more than anything, he could make this better for Callum, take his pain away and replace it with all the things Callum brings to Ben’s life.<em> Sunshine, warmth, love. </em> “I love you.” </p><p>“Sorry,” Callum blurts, swallowing thickly. The moonlight makes his tears shine as they drip down Ben’s bare chest. There’s still a panic in his eyes, but it’s amplified now. <em> “I’m so sorry."</em> </p><p>Ben attempts to counteract his apologies with soft whispers, telling Callum that he <em>loves him</em>, that Ben’s <em>here with him</em>, that he’s <em>safe</em>. He plays with Callum’s hair and kisses his temple, the top of his head, the edge of his eyebrow, anywhere he can reach. He wants to think it’s helping, that his gentle touches are calming Callum down but<b><em>—</em></b> </p><p>Callum’s still laying there, holding onto Ben as he falls apart, and Ben doesn't even try to count the minutes but he knows it’s a lot, knows it’s too many, and his heart clenches in his chest. </p><p>“Callum?” Ben asks, still a quiet, concerned whisper. “You with me?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Callum answers, robotic, automatic. Ben glances up, unconvinced because there’s this sadness in Callum’s eyes that makes Ben’s throat swell. </p><p>“When you’re ready to talk,” Ben starts, voice soft. “I’m here. Whether that’s tonight or tomorrow or next week. <em> Whenever</em>.”</p><p>After a while, the tears stop flowing and the room falls silent once more. Ben settles, calming his breathing and trailing nervous fingertips along Callum’s arm.</p><p>It’s then, Ben hears footsteps down the hall, pitter-pattering like rain against a windowpane. He stills, waiting for the door to creak open. </p><p>He should’ve been expecting it, really. </p><p>Lexi is a silver silhouette as she treads quietly around the front of their bed, pausing at the edge of the frame. Things are so still, and Callum doesn’t acknowledge her presence yet, just keeps his head ducked and his shoulders curled in.</p><p>“Cal?” she whispers, tentative as she steps up to sit beside him. “Are you alright?”</p><p>Callum’s reply is intelligible, just a low hum that Ben has to strain to hear.</p><p>“Have you been crying, Cal?” She questions, wide, sleepy eyes blinking innocently. “Please don’t cry. When you cry, Daddy cries. And when Daddy cries, I cry. And that’s no good.” </p><p>Callum lets out a breathy laugh at that, it’s impossible not to, but it gets caught in the back on his throat, clogged by the tears stuck there. “You’re right. We can’t be having any princess tears around here.” </p><p>“Did you have a bad dream again?” Lexi continues quietly. Callum’s shoulders start to shake. “Do you—d’ya want to talk about it? Daddy says that talking <em> always </em>helps.”</p><p>“I don’t want to burden you with it, Lex,” Callum says, words muffled by his arm. “It’s–It’s okay. <em>I’m okay. </em>” </p><p>They’re two smudges of blue under the moon, <em>his boyfriend and his daughter</em>, backs now facing Ben, curled up together. He watches the slow way Lexi tilts her head to watch Callum, the sadness laced in her eyes when she rests a careful hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“You always help me,” Lexi says, eyes sincere. “So now it’s my turn to help you. That’s what family do.”</p><p>Callum remains silent for a long time, nighttime swallowing them up. Ben’s eyes keep losing focus, their figures blurring in and out amongst the tears building there.</p><p>“I had a bad dream, yeah. About the army, back when I was a soldier,” he finally says, the words falling out like he’s fighting to keep them in. “About the people I loved there. And the people I lost, too.”</p><p>Ben stares out into the darkness, stomach curling into something awful. </p><p>“Do you miss them?” Lexi asks. She’s met with silence again, and Callum curls into himself again, hides his face. She’s tiny beside him. After a beat, she lets out a little breath and leans into his side. “It’s okay if you do, you know? Everybody misses somebody, that’s what Mrs Taylor says, anyway.”</p><p>Callum’s head shifts slightly, navy and silver slanting through his hair when he glances at her. She stares down at her toes. </p><p>“Oh, does she?” Callum whispers back. “I think Mrs Taylor might be right, actually.” </p><p>“You’re very brave, Cal,” Lexi whispers back. “I think that’s why Daddy loves you so much.” </p><p>Callum brightens at that. “You think so?”</p><p>“I know so,” Lexi insists gently. Her hand finds Callum’s, and she tangles their fingers together. She tries to be nonchalant and unbothered, just like her Dad, but even in this gloomy darkness Ben can almost feel the tremble of her chest. She takes in a sharp breath, almost as if to shake it away. “I’m always right.”</p><p>“Of course you are,” Callum says after a long pause, drawn-out tentative and soft. “You’re a Mitchell.” </p><p>Ben has to look away then, face screwed up as he fights tears, a misty heat settling in his eyes, behind his ears, neck strained as he tries not to breathe too loudly, to interrupt the quiet. He aches to say something, to soothe a hand down Callum’s back, or to bring gentle fingers through Lexi’s hair. But more than anything, he wants to let them have it to themselves, this goldspun moment.  </p><p>“So are you, ain’t ya?”</p><p>“<em>So am I </em>what?” </p><p>"A Mitchell,” Lexi whispers in answer, and the<em> duh</em> goes unsaid. It’s so lovely, so delicate and careful that Ben can feel his heart shaking in his chest. “Mine and Daddy’s very own Mitchell. I mean<b><em>—</em></b>if you wanna be?" </p><p>And there's that smile again, brighter than a thousand stars. Callum lets out a tired puff of teary laughter,<em> “yeah? Y</em>eah, of course I wanna be.”</p><p>Callum falls sideways then, coming to settle with Lexi tucked to his side. Callum’s fingers find Ben's among the sheets. He holds onto them like an anchor.</p><p>Among the flush of his cheeks, the rush of sadness that’s still lingering, Ben tries to recall the moment Lexi became this way, wise and gentle and caring beyond her age, this vibrant young woman, there for him and everyone around her even when the world is doing it’s best to challenge her, to put her down. The tears come in a slow onset and he wipes them away subtly, keeps his movements slow and silent.   </p><p>“You’ll be okay,” Lexi whispers, tucking herself against Callum’s side. Their fingers are still linked. “You’ve got me and Daddy now. Forever and ever.”</p><p>Callum glances down at her, moonlight cutting a deep silver along his cheekbone, lining his face with it, and his eyes are shiny, cheeks dewy wet from tears, looking grateful and content and full of a hurt that Ben can’t even begin to try to understand. But he wants to, more than anything. </p><p>Calum presses a soft kiss to the top of Lexi’s head, lingering there, resting his cheek by her temple, eyes closed. </p><p>“Thank you, Lex,” he whispers. “I love you.<em> Both of you.”</em></p><p>“We love you more,” Ben says breaking the fragile quiet, voice hoarse from the words he’s been keeping in. <em>“Both of us.” </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kudos/comments massively appreciated!!! dingletragedy on tumblr/twitter &lt;33</p></blockquote></div></div>
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